


From Upstairs

by AJo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJo/pseuds/AJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He gets off on it, you know?"</p><p>A silly little thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Upstairs

"OH GOD YES!"

Mrs. Hudson hears the shout and very nearly drops her little tea kettle. She presses one of her hands against her mouth and sets her kettle on the stove, trying to regain her normal breathing pace. She looks up at the ceiling, worried about what's happened with her boys.

"AAAHHH!" She jumps again at the sudden sound, smacking a hand over her chest and grabbing the kitchen counter so she doesn't fall over. She'd been severely startled, and she thanks God for not having her heart come bursting out of her chest and onto the stove top. She strongly believes that hearts don't belong on stoves, no matter how many times she'd heard Sherlock argue otherwise.

She's very worried now, and takes off to hurry up the steps of 221B in order to make sure that her boys are safe and sound.

As she makes her way up, she ponders over the sound. It wasn't a scream, but more like a yell, a long, very drawn-out, deep sort of yell. It isn't until she's walked into their living room that she realizes that it was a moan.

She's about to turn around and teeter off back downstairs until she sees that no one's actually naked, and her boys aren't having sex. In fact, she only sees John sitting at the table with his computer and Sherlock sprawled over the couch in an especially indecent way.

"A serial killer. Eleven victims. All mid-teens and found in parks. No link found between victims," John says from his spot. "However, a DNA sample was taken from all the victims and it identifies an already dead shopkeep."

"Ahhhh, god, yes," Sherlock moans. He's slightly red in the face, his forehead lined with sweat, and his shirt riding up his stomach. He slides his head back a bit more along the couch, one of his legs falling to touch the ground as he moans, "More, John!"

"28 year old woman found decapitated in a locked 7-Eleven washroom in Kentucky. No way to tell her identity. Head is missing. Security tapes show no one entering or leaving the room, yet the door becomes locked from the outside-"

"Oh, ahh, please-"

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson!" John chirps. He smiles politely at her shocked face.

_"John!"_

"This is a bit absurd, don't you think?" she says.

"You tell me-"

_"John!"_

Suddenly there's a box of tissues being thrown at his head.

"Yes, yes, alright! Be patient!"

"I need it _now_ , John!"

"I'm just going to leave you boys to it then," Mrs. Hudson squeaks.

 _"MRS. HUDSON! GOD!"_ Sherlock shouts, flipping over onto his stomach and burying his face into the cushions.

The colour drains from her face as she races down the steps, leaving the boys alone to continue their activities.

"Alright, settle down."

"Another!"

"Okay... Ah. A child was kidnapped and later found-"

 

"Dull."

In the distance, a cricket makes a sound just for them.

"Is it?"

It's quiet for a long, suffering moment. John looks up from his laptop just to see Sherlock now standing and seeming calm and collected as ever.

 

"I'm done, John."

He slams his computer shut.

"Thank fucking God."

He tries to ignore the wet patch on Sherlock's trousers.

Tries.


End file.
